


A Bering & Wells Tumblr Compendium

by GunBunnyCentral



Category: Dresden Files (TV), Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunBunnyCentral/pseuds/GunBunnyCentral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compendium of the various snippets and comment fics I've posted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wells One, Bering Zero

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, this is just a gathering spot for the various snippets and comment fics I've posted on Tumblr. Ratings will vary, and chapters will not necessarily be related to each other. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She heard Myka start grumbling under her breath - complete with colorful metaphors not entirely suited to mixed company - and knew she'd won this round.

The cacophony of multiple, overlapping voices filled the dining room at the B&B as Myka, Pete, and Claudia bickered good-naturedly over breakfast. Pete was giving Myka grief about some brilliant mission plan gone all to hell - which he could get away with because the day had still been saved anyway - and Claudia was egging him on in teasing the closest thing she had to a big sister.

Myka, finding herself outmatched as Pete and Claudia ganged up on her, responded with the only ammunition she had left - she made a face and stuck her tongue out at both of them.

The two winners - because reducing Myka to childish gestures of defiance meant that you'd won, fair and square - high-fived each other as they busted up laughing. Steve, who'd been bearing silent witness this whole time without taking sides, couldn't keep from laughing himself, though he did at least shoot Myka a sympathetic look.

"Darling," Helena's voice broke in, only slightly muffled by the newspaper she currently held in front of her. "What have I told you about teasing? It's rude, not to mention terribly cruel..."

Silence descended on the dining room almost instantly, though Helena never even looked up from her newspaper to survey the havoc she'd just wreaked. It was finally broken several heartbeats later by an incoherent, oddly-pitched choking noise from Myka that made even Trailer whine unhappily.

When Helena finally deigned to glance up from her newspaper to take in her handiwork, Myka's eyes were big as saucers and her face was several charming shades of crimson all at once. Brown eyes stared into green, and one corner of Helena's mouth lazily quirked upward into a smirk as Myka's eyes narrowed threateningly.

Adding fuel to the fire, Helena went back to reading her paper without so much as a word, as if to say that she'd recognized and then simply dismissed the challenge in Myka's gaze. She heard Myka start grumbling under her breath - complete with colorful metaphors not entirely suited to mixed company - and knew she'd won this round.

Current tally? Wells 1, Bering 0...


	2. Turning Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete had never intended to make Helena actually go through with it - it was just a stupid bet that shamelessly exploited Helena's lack of familiarity with the 21st Century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [Absedarian's post on Tumblr](http://absedarian.tumblr.com/post/39404256151/au-week-month-year-hg-wells-loses-a-bet-to)...

Pete had never intended to make Helena actually go through with it - it was just a stupid bet that shamelessly exploited Helena's lack of familiarity with the 21st Century. Before Pete could pull Helena aside and let her off the hook, though, he and Myka got sent off to chase a ping.

It took them several days to snag and bag the Artifact - thankfully not one of the more dangerous ones they'd retrieved - and Helena was nowhere to be found when they returned. She finally showed up a little afterward, as Pete and Myka sat at the kitchen table eating an early dinner.

One look at Helena as she stepped through the doorway to join them told Pete everything he needed to know - namely, that his lifespan was now measured in mere moments. Myka's choked cry as she spotted Helena's short, tousled hair caused Pete to amend that estimate to seconds instead - he was all too aware of the fact that Myka's adoration of Helena's long, dark hair verged on something of a fetish.

Even assuming that Myka didn't kill him for being the instigator of Helena's unexpected haircut, she would most certainly kill him once she realized the thoughts running through his head. He'd long since stopped perving over either woman - separately or together - but damned if Helena's new look wasn't sexy enough to bring it all back for a minute or two.

Fortunately, Myka seemed to think so too, once the shock wore off. Pete did his best to keep his eyes and his thoughts on his food - the better to extend his own lifespan - but he still had a clear view as Myka hesitantly approached her girlfriend. Myka's expression made it obvious that the new hairstyle was rapidly growing on her despite herself, and Pete had to fight to hide his smirk.

The moment Myka actually reached out to touch Helena's hair - the motion tentative, as if she were somehow a little fearful of the change - Pete knew he'd at least get to live for the next few hours. Once the whispering and arm-touching started, he upped that prediction to living out the whole night - everyone knew by now that it meant Myka and Helena would be heading upstairs soon, not to be seen until morning.

Of course, the B&B's thin walls meant that they'd almost assuredly still be heard, but no one really even noticed the noise anymore unless it got louder than usual for some reason - like, for example, an unexpectedly pleasing change in appearance. Pete, knowing his own stay of execution when he heard it, just grinned and turned up the volume on his already-blaring action movie.

He was changing out discs for the second or third time when Helena wandered down the stairs in her robe, looking understandably smug. Something flickered behind the smile she flashed at him, and Pete suddenly realized exactly what had happened.

"You knew, didn't you?" he said, laughing. "You knew I'd never really make you cut your hair. You just wanted an excuse to do it so that Myka wouldn't pitch a fit about it."

Helena's smirk as she continued on into the kitchen was all the answer Pete needed.


	3. Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to Chicago had been an egregious error on Helena's part, not that she had had much choice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [Helenastacie's gif set on Tumblr](http://helenastacie.tumblr.com/post/40460290602)...

Returning to Chicago had been an egregious error on Helena's part, not that she had had much choice - it was the logical place to start tracing a potential Artifact that had once belonged to Al Capone. Still, Helena had disliked the city from her very first visit back in 1893, and the intervening century had done little to change her opinion.

It was an opinion that the City of Chicago seemed to reciprocate - Helena's trip there had gone wrong from the very start, almost as if by design, and her ill luck simply felt personal in a way she couldn't quite shake.

First, the bag holding her few meager belongings had gotten misplaced somewhere in the process of changing flights - not lost, mind you, merely delayed long enough that she wouldn't be able to retrieve it until first thing in the morning.

Then, the abundance of promising leads that she'd hoped might turn her luck around had led nowhere. An initial rush of excitement had faded to nothing but irritation and frustration as she was forced to interact fruitlessly with people whose mere proximity made her desperately want a shower.

The final incident, however, had just been insult on top of injury. By the time the final glimmer of hope for an easy mission had faded - hours into her investigation - she'd been in such a foul mood that she completely neglected to pay attention to her surroundings.

A band of hooligans - none of them older than young Miss Donovan, unless she missed her guess - had seen her obliviousness and taken her for easy prey. She'd disabused them of that notion completely, of course, while suffering no significant injuries to speak of, but the entire experience was simply depressing.

Which was why she was sitting forlornly on the cold, wet metal steps attached to some unknown storefront in a city she hated, trying to catch her breath and steady her nerves before finding herself a room at the nearest half-way decent motel or hotel in the area.

It was also why she never noticed the pale, dark-haired woman walk by then stop suddenly as she sniffed delicately at something in the air. Smiling in both delight and disbelief, the woman spoke quietly to her male companion, then followed the scent over to Helena's erstwhile sanctuary.

Helena blinked in surprise as she took in the unexpectedly familiar features peering down at her - from the dark, curly hair to the moss-green eyes - and murmured the first thing that came to mind. "Myka?"

Even as the name passed her lips, Helena knew it wasn't the right one. The woman in front of her bore an uncanny resemblance to Myka Bering, but nothing so old and jaded had ever looked back at her from behind Myka's eyes. Even so, the woman was no stranger to Helena, unaccountable as her presence might be. "Bianca?"

"Helena Wells, as I live and breathe..." Bianca St. Claire, proud and immortal member of the once-mighty Sanguine Vampiris - a vampire, for the less erudite - was used to losing track of acquaintances for decades and then suddenly encountering them again by complete accident. Those acquaintances, however, were not generally of the mortal, human variety...

Helena immediately attempted to cover her surprise and apprehension by saying something funny or witty, trying for some eloquent bon mot about vampires not living *or* breathing. It didn't happen. "Oh bloody hell..."

Bianca just laughed, and a shudder ran through Helena that had nothing to do with fear. A century in and out of bronze had done nothing to dim Helena's memories of Bianca's laughter, or her touch - it was all too easy still to summon up the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain she'd felt every time Bianca's fangs had pierced her inner thigh, and there was little chance that she'd ever forget the taste of her own blood on Bianca's lips.

Somehow even more cold and miserable for meeting an old lover unexpectedly, Helena just shivered and huddled further into herself. Bianca, earlier playfulness suddenly fading, crouched down in front of Helena with preternatural grace. "You look dreadful, honey. You never did know how to look after yourself - let me take you home and get you cleaned up."

To be fair, Helena's reluctance to accept the aid being offered had nothing to do with any prior mistreatment by Bianca - the vampire had, in fact, been the sole force standing between Helena and complete social ruin back in London. Not even London society had been brave enough to defy Bianca St. Claire by ostracizing someone under her protection - at least, not for anything short of mass murder or some other form of absolute depravity.

The problem was that Bianca always wanted *something* in return for her help - even if it was just a little sex and blood - and Helena knew it all too well. The fact that she had nothing of immediate value to offer the vampire only underscored the dismalness of her situation, and made her voice crack a little as she finally spoke again. "Find someone else to toy with, Bianca. I have nothing for you."

The vampire made no move to go, merely watching Helena's face intently until Helena began to believe, albeit unwillingly, in her sincerity. Helena's eyes began to sting with tears, and she inwardly cursed herself for being so desperate that a little kindness affected her that deeply. "I have nothing of value to trade for your help, Bianca - I won't be your plaything, and I have no information that would be of even the slightest use to you."

Bianca, looking somewhat offended, rose to her feet, hand extended. "I make my own decisions about what's valuable to me, Helena."

Even as Helena reached for Bianca's outstretched hand, she knew the vampire would find some way to benefit from her own generosity. Bianca was a businesswoman above all else - a *successful* businesswoman, which meant that she knew better than to demand something she had little hope of getting. As long as Helena tread very carefully, the price wouldn't be *too* high.

It was almost like old times as she and Bianca walked down the street together, arm-in-arm, to rejoin Bianca's escort. The man - presumably Bianca's current favored business associate - seemed a bit perplexed by the presence of a mere mortal as Bianca made introductions, but apparently had the intelligence and wit to simply accept the situation.

Then it was *exactly* like old times as Bianca smiled at Helena oh-so-innocently, voice sweet and thick as molasses. "So tell me, honey - who's Myka? I'm already insanely jealous..."


End file.
